The Shocking True Story of Grace Potter Part 1
by Blanche Snow
Summary: Grace Potter is the twin of Harry Potter. Struck by a car in her youth, she's been in a coma ever since. Voldemort bewitches her to become a living mummy, as though under the Imperius curse.. She must fight her evil curse, and join the good. She must try to destroy her existence among the Dark World.
1. Prologue

The Shocking True Story of Grace Potter

Prologue

'Grace?' called Lily.

I was sitting in my room, next to Harry. I needed someone to be with me, and Harry was possibly the most boring person to sit next to. Well, now I miss him. I've been gone for 11 years. Harry would be sitting on the benches in the Great Hall, eating a feast with who-knows-are-his-best-friends, and here I am stuck on a moulding hospital bed, in a coma for 11 years.

Mum came over to me, and picked me up. We were off to see old Batty Bagshot, who dotes on Harry. I wasn't pleased. Bawling madly, I wriggled in Mum's arms as she pinned me to the buggy. I wasn't strapped on. Being in a haste to get back home, I ran away while Mum wasn't looking. Dad went to get Harry.

Yay! I thought. Being immersed in my jubilous celebrations, I missed the car. It didn't hit me. The shock of it coming towards me and the fact that another man came running over, knocking me down, was enough to get a 8-month-old baby to be in a coma. One deafening scream of agony from me, and I moved no more.

'Grace,' moaned Mum, 'Stop mucking about. Get on.' She thought I was having one of my tantrums. Harry looked over curiously.

'Grace!' said Mum impatiently. But I could hear a hidden anxiety in her voice.

She ran over to pick me up. I fell limply at her feet.

'Grace! Wake up! Wake up!' Mum had started to cry. Harry was oblivious to me being petrified.

'Honey, she's not dead!' soothed Dad. 'She's in a coma, I think. Come on, we'll get her to St Mungo's.'

Mum was screaming. She cradled me in her arms. 'It's all my fault,' she says. 'If only I had kept an eye on her!' I wanted to comfort her, to sooth her. But I couldn't. My eyelids were heavy. My legs were stone. My arms were glued to my side. I was immobilized, unable to do anything. Now I am 11. I have woken up, fortunately, but I won't see Harry again. The Dark Lord bewitched me. When Mum and Dad went into hiding trying to protect Harry, they left me behind. The Dark Lord's allies killed made me their soldier, their servant. I was a living mummy, my mercy in their hands. If they said I die, I die. There's not a chance of me choosing my own fate.

Why is it Harry had more attention? He had the power to 'vanquish the Dark Lord', according to the Dark Lord. I'm not sure Harry is even able to 'vanquish the Dark Lord'. A boy like him, possessing no natural talent, killing someone as powerful as the Dark Lord? I am not evil, of course, but Harry is quite unlikely to achieve such a thing. I'm not sure he even remembers me, the mysterious, almost-dead twin sister of the famous The Boy Who Lived.

Silly Aunt Petunia was never a nice aunt to me. Always strict, and was even mean to Mum. Even though Harry stayed with his aunt and uncle, I heard from the people at St Mungos, and being whacked often, with a pig of a boy Dudley Dursley, he was still better off than me in a ward in St Mungos, having people force feed me through a tube everyday.

I needed to fight my evil curse.


	2. Chapter 1

After I was transported to St Mungo's, my mum was almost hysterical. Well, to be exact, she was hysterical. And Harry was just sat in one of the cots, dozing off, completely unaware of his surroundings. And, after what seemed like a year, a amiable-looking lady came over to me with a large of quantity of tubes draping over her shoulders like a tail.

Dad had his head in his hands. It was hard to tell who was sadder, Mum or Dad. Nor could I tell if he was crying, or just too immersed in his thoughts, thinking about the worst consequences. Mum was scarlet red, explaining how the car had almost hit me.

Little by little, Mum finally explained to the Healer what had happened. When the Healer decided to give me a little test, I was almost relieved. I wouldn't have to endure Mum sobbing her heart out over me, who was still alive; no, not when I could prove to her I could speak, and brighten her day.

As it turned out, the test took longer than I thought it should. I didn't have enough time to show Mum. I saw a funny tube with a little rubber pad on it slowly come to my chest, and felt a gently tickling sensation. At first I enjoyed it, but after I while it got extremely violent. I was so ticklish, that had I been conscious, I would twitch as hard as I could, for I could not move even though I could burst out in uncontrollable giggles.

Then the tube retreated to my back, and after five tests or so, on a variety of different lethal looking mechanics, each one looking more ominous, the Healer pronounced that I was unconscious. This was too much for Mum, who burst into tears again.

I felt grateful for the Healer, because she had suddenly cleared her throat to interrupt a drenched-in-tears-and-sweat Mum. 'Well, ' she said consolingly, 'don't worry, Madam. She'll be here for about a month and then she should be fine. Don't you worry.'

Someone appeared out of thin air, undoubtedly another Healer and carted Mum and Dad off to a 'quiet place', to take a 'well-deserved break'. Well, I can't say more than that. They do deserve a calming down.

11 years have passed after that fateful day when things took a turn for the worst. Yet, my life hasn't changed one bit, except that Mum's not here, and nor is Dad, nor Harry. Everyday I hear Healers and other visitors of patients in my ward having a fresh gossip of the latest Daily Prophet news, and that is how I have retrieved these memories from my mind. I don't even know how I got to hospital, or what I did in St Mungo's. Everything I know is from the friendly Healer I met, which turned out to be called Clara, and her colleagues at St Mungo's.

There's another change too. Poor Clara doesn't know. Sometimes I don't either. Sometimes I come back to my bed but I think that is is occupied. I feel as light as a ghost, yet I am not dead. Why is there another Grace Potter on my bed? I can't figure out why. Then, before that, I find myself in a strange place, with a emaciated man and a long white wand in his hand. But I think I'm starting to know why I exist somewhere else.


	3. Chapter 2

It was morning. I grudgingly look out of the window. Wait, what? I don't understand.

The walls are no longer white. They're glossy black. There's no bed; no Clara, nor Bernadette, another one of my Healers. It was just the emaciated man again.

I was not alone. Next to me was a long, wooden table, polished and shining like marble. There was a snake next to me. I wanted to scream, but I couldn' must be because I am still in a coma.

The talll, emaciated man pointed his wand at me very carefully, and said some undistinguishable words...I felt myself drifting into nowhere, in a celestial paradise...euphoria...

'Servant!' somebody hissed at me.

What was I doing! Oh no, I don't like snakes. Grace Potter, move that way.

'SERVANT!' bellowed that haunting, hissing noise.

I moved towards my left. Why am I doing this? I hadn't the faintest clue, but I was doing it. I tried to move to the other way, but my brains seemed to have failed me for the first time. My legs just didn't obey. I walked over to a dead body, the body of a woman, lifted her by the arms, and gave her over to the snake.

I wanted to help her; but my senses seemed to think this was all for the best. She was so heavy, but so light too; I could lift her easily. So easily, in fact; it took less than 10 seconds.

I noticed something else. There were more or less 20 people stationed at the table; and a grand staircase behind the other side. Each was looking at the emaciated man, as though dazzled by his power.

'Severus,' said the man quietly, 'I can only turn to you now.'

'Yes, my Lord,' said Severus, who was a sallow-faced man with greasy black hair.

'It seems that I may require a few spies. I have already positioned myself in the school. '

In the school? I thought. What did he mean, in the school? Surely Harry would be in great danger!

A dismissive hand shot towards me unexpectedly, and I felt my body recoil from its former position, my legs following obediently, and looking slightly comical, as though I was dragged by my arms by an invisible force.

Suddenly, there was no invisible force pulling me, but I felt myself involuntarily fly upwards, and once again, in the warm room of my ward.

I suddenly froze; it was as though my heart forgot to beat. Clara and Bernadette were stood there, talking to me. What if they found out about my true identity, and an identical version of me in an alternate world? Surely, I'd be discharged; disposed of; questioned about my sanity. No. But as Bernadette casually glanced around the room, she stared at me for a long time. But she did not notice anything, for I must be invisible.

I sneaked into my bed carefully, just as another Healer called to across the threshold, 'Ettie! Tommy needs some help here!' Bernadette immediately dashed to the entrance, with an approving hand wave, which I took to mean 'Goodbye.'

Clara immediately followed, walking to the next ward, muttering to herself.

What am I, a living mummy? An emaciated man, looking like a giant, skeletal baby bewitched me to act strangely. Moving to places I don't to, and I'm not even . Now I really am insane.


	4. Chapter 3

It had been a week since I last encountered the emaciated skeleton. I constantly had strange dreams, including one where the snake pursued me from ward to ward, strangling me and almost devouring my flesh. I was so frightened, but I didn't dare tell Ettie and Clara. I wouldn't if I could, either.

It was raining heavily. Every day passed like the previous day, each more boring and ominous than the previous. All I can do was listening to the non-stop chit-chat of the rain, and wait for Ettie or Clara to talk to me, but nobody came to me today. Why didn't I have any special visitors?

My isolated little ward housed nobody except me, because nobody had a problem as serious as mine. That was what I thought when I was younger. As I get older, I'm starting to wonder the real truth behind it. I'm not a normal girl. I'm a weird living skeleton who exists under the Dark Lord's control as well as in a ward in St Mungo's. Does anyone else know what I really am? No.

I carried on with my thoughts for a while. Soon, I fell asleep. Unknowingly. I was very relieved, for I did not have any disturbing dreams this night. I didn't want to go to the Other World again. It was more than disturbing. But when I woke up, a miracle occurred.

At first I didn't believe my thoughts; but then, I must have. I stifled a yawn, as I usually did every morning. I was accustomed to it. But as I tried to do so, my jaw muscles moved. Maybe I'd overworked them? I laid down to rest. As I laid down, my legs suddenly felt really numb. Ar! That's painful. I didn't dare try to touch it, because I knew I couldn't. In all the pain, I moved my leg. I saw it rise up, and fall limply after two seconds.

What! No wait, I must be imagining. How can I possibly be like this? Ettie must have noticed all the commotion, with my leg exercises.

'Grace?' she said uncertainly.

'Yes?' I muttered.

Then Ettie let out a gasp so loud, as though she had been showered in cold water. 'Grace! You're-!' she stammered. 'Grace! How could-! What's-!' She collapsed onto a nearby armchair, her jaw temporarily frozen.

After a long pause, she finally ran over to the entrance, and shouted to the next ward, 'Clara! Come here!'

Five seconds later, Clara dashed into my ward. Ettie whispered something in Clara's ears surreptitiously, but the expression on Clara's face was very surprising.

She smiled.

'I knew it!' she whispered excitedly. 'I knew Grace would do it one day.'

Clara beckoned Ettie over, but Ettie was reluctant, as though I was a disease. 'Come on, sit up,' said Clara.

She held me up gently, but I still felt weak, as though my spine would sudden dissolve into jelly. She propped me up against the pillow and smiled.


	5. Chapter 4

'Clara?' I asked.

'Yes?'

'Why am I doing this?'

Clara look temporarily dumbstruck. Ettie finally took a step, and looked at me suspiciously.

'Oh Ettie, don't be an idiot!' laughed Clara. I'd never seen Ettie so angry, she flushed scarlet at these words but still came forward.

I couldn't believe my luck. I was alive at last. Sitting on a rotting hospital bed with nothing to look at except from the grimy, moss-covered window and muddy floors. All my dreams about the skeletal baby had gone away.

Suddenly, I jerked back awake.

'Grace? I need to go check on Tommy. He's feeling ill again.'

I felt slightly dazed, disappointed. I had just become alive! And yet she ignores me. Sigh.

'Me too,' says Ettie very quickly, as though desperate to get away from me.

Several long hours passed. I had fallen asleep over and over, and suddenly becoming awake. I woke up for the 6th time for no reason, although I was sure I heard someone scream. Maybe I was in the Other World Again! I looked at the clock, just to check I was still in St Mungo's. Wow! It was six o'clock already. I couldn't believe it! My little naps must have been hours long.

Six o'clock; that meant something else too; Ettie or Clara usually gives me my evening dose of medicine at six, but I was no longer dead, I was alive, right? I hadn't had any decent food for ages, all I have is baby food, and that tasted gross. Carrot and bananas mashed together with spinach, and according to Clara, 'a balanced, healthy diet.' Gross.

My body was aching. I'd never had so much exercise in my life! Maybe I won't ever walk again, I thought. But then, if my health improved, I could join Harry at last, at Hogwarts, where I truly belonged! Oh, wouldn't I be please to see him. Would Harry be pleased to see me? Oh, I think not.

An image of me and Harry finally reuniting quickly formed in my head. Harry would not remember me. He would think me a shame, and I would be just as alone and friendless as I am now. I would be friends with the lamest, looniest people because I was lame and loony myself.

I shook my head, trying to shake the image out of me. I probably wouldn't see Harry in a long time. It would be a while.

I heard urgent scuffling and a muffled whisper coming from the ward next to mine. Maureen, the Trainee Healer of the ward next to mine came running down the corridor, and she stopped dead in her tracks, frozen. She dropped onto her knees and slowly slid out of sight.

Soon, the curiosity got the better of me. I took a pair of crutches propped up on my bed table, and waddled over to the door. Peering out, I saw no disturbance. As I walked further into the corridor, I saw nothing except a couple of patients peering out from their wards to see what made the noise. As I stopped, I saw something which made me froze.


	6. Chapter 5

Ettie lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, twitching and shaking from head to toe.

My knees felt stiff and awkward, but I still did my best to kneel down beside Maureen, who was distraught and sobbing her heart out onto Ettie's unconscious body.

'What's wrong?' I asked anxiously, though it only came out as feeble whisper.

'Gone! Gone!' said Maureen. 'Grace, go get Clara.'

I limped over to the ward next to mine. As I hobbled over, several people peeked out of the wards, one of them being an elderly witch named Sue who had been admitted a while ago, who looked a sickly puke colour. She looked quite intimidating, but as you got to know her she really was quite kind.

'What's wrong, dear?' she asked, smiling.

'Something's happened to Ettie!' I said, exasperated.

'Oh, Ettie? I always liked her, must see what's going on.' she said, and she went off in the opposite direction, muttering to herself.

At last, I reached the ward I was looking for. Clara was busy feeding poor Tommy some ghastly green liquid in a spoon, Tommy's face split into a rather gormless grin and very still.

'Clara?'

'Yes? Ah yes, you used the crutches, did you? I thought they would come in useful! Does it hurt? Or is it uncomfort-'

'No, that doesn't matter.' Feeling rather guilty, I cut across her impatiently. 'Maureen sent me to get you; something's happened to Ettie.'

Clara's face changed from delight to horror and shock. 'Ettie? B-but h-how?' she spluttered. After a while she finally pulled herself together. 'OK, yes, I'll come. Hang on, I just need Tommy to finish his medicine.'

So I led Clara away from the ward, and down the corridor to the place where the accident had happened. This time, I had a little trouble identifying the place, as the whole corridor seemed to be filled with people, either to discover the source of the ruckus or simply too inquisitive and nosy.

I made my way through the crowd, pushing and shoving people around me with my crutches and ignoring the angry looks they cast at me. Someone hit me in the back so hard that I almost tripped on Sue. I quickly apologised, waving a hand in the air, and carried on.

Finally, I reached the end. This time, not only Maureen, but a couple of other nurses whose names I didn't know were next to her, carefully examining every part of Ettie they could.

'Oh Clara!' Maureen wailed. 'No, I couldn't save her. Just this one necklace! And she's gone!'

One of the nurses kneeling next to Maureen pointed to a small, grubby package with brown wrapping paper. I made to pick it up, but as my fingers were inches away from the necklace, someone screamed: 'Don't touch it! It's cursed!'

I instinctively retreated my finger; but a nurse picked it up and held it between her long fingers, and handed it over to me.

'Don't touch it! Just hold it by the wrappings,' she warned me.

I inspected the necklace carefully, and immediately understood; anyone would have fallen for the sheer beauty of the necklace, an ornate piece of of jewellry decorated with the finest gemstones there were; opals and other assortments of jewels.

It was a cursed necklace.


End file.
